


Milk and Apples

by papercloudx



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, just a little scene on how Nyx may meet a citizen!reader, night shift at a convenience store, random stranger buys random things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 04:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20540195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papercloudx/pseuds/papercloudx
Summary: Night shifts always had a bit of an eerie air to them, especially during weekdays. Insomnia was never quiet enough that you would call night shifts creepy; but a 24-hour-convenience store at night tended to attract unusual customers. Few people remembered to buy a carton of milk and a few apples at 3am.The young man in front of you right now was the exception to the rule. You bet his backstory was an interesting one; even in the dim light, you could make out the dirt and sweat stains on his black shirt, and he smelled faintly of smouldering charcoal.





	Milk and Apples

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Prokopetz' post on tumblr ["coffee shop AUs out, 24-hour convenience store AU in"]. Nxy just seemed like exactly the kind of guy who'd buy two very random items at 3am in the morning. 
> 
> This is a very slow scene to find a writing voice for my boy Nyx.

Night shifts always had a bit of an eerie air to them, especially during weekdays. Insomnia was never quiet enough that you would call night shifts _creepy_; but a 24-hour-convenience store at night tended to attract unusual customers. Few people remembered to buy a carton of milk and a few apples at 3am.

The young man in front of you right now was the exception to the rule. You bet his backstory was an interesting one; even in the dim light, you could make out the dirt and sweat stains on his black shirt, and he smelled faintly of smouldering charcoal.

“Something healthy after an impromptu BBQ?,” you tried to coax some information out of him. You were rewarded with a quiet chuckle and a raspy baritone voice: “Wish it were so. Nah, work’s been busy.” Before you could ask another question, the interesting stranger paid for everything and waved goodbye. You’d have to ask one of your colleagues whether they had encountered one like that before. You couldn’t quite decide what kind of work the man may have alluded to.

\---------

The next time he entered the store during your shift—the clock read 4.13 am and you were just filling up the shelves—he sported a long, red cut over his left eye. The smouldering charcoal smell was stronger than you remembered it from the other night.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, but you immediately realised how out of line you were. “I mean. Uhm. Good evening, how can I help you?” _Real smooth, dumbass._

He grinned, and you exhaled deeply as the tension left your body. He didn’t seem as if he’d scream to see the manager anytime soon. Not that the manager was around at this time of night, anyway. And you really needed this job, so you were thankful for the stranger’s relaxed grin.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just get the same things as last time. They haven’t moved, I assume?” You shook your head to hide the tiny smile that found the way onto your lips. _He seems like a nice guy._ “Still in the same place.”

You continued stocking the shelves as the stranger shuffled through the store. After a couple of minutes, he arrived at the counter with another bottle of milk and a total of three apples.

“Weird combination, but whatever works for you, I guess,” you joked. He was handsome, in a rugged kind of way. Muscular, tall, and with a striking confidence in his demeanour. Not the type of man you usually went for, but something about him just screamed _safe_. Weird. You pushed that line of thought to the back of your head.

“Friend says I need to eat more fruit and shit, so I suppose this is me making an effort.” You stifled a laugh. “How does the milk feature in?”  
“Another friend says I can’t drink beer all the time, so milk it is.” He smiled then; not at you, but with a fondness in his gaze that told you just how much his friends must mean to him. 

You shook your head again. It was a good look on him, but 4.24 am was no time to fawn over a handsome stranger who smelled like charcoal and had a bright red gash on his face.

“That’ll be 5.45,” you said instead, and allowed yourself just a tiny peek at his firm behind as he left the store.

\---------

Working night shifts alone had become regular occurrence. Sometimes, you enjoyed the quiet nights and indulged in a book or let music play from the phone, relishing in the freedom of being paid even though there weren’t a lot of customers around.

Tonight, you were anxious. A few nights back, a burglary happened just a few streets away from the store. You had the proximity to the Citadel and the surrounding ‘nice part of town’ lull yourself into an—apparently—false sense of security. You hadn’t heard or seen anything the night it happened, but that didn’t stop your nerves from going into overdrive with every chime that announced a new customer. 

It was no different when your handsome stranger entered the store. You jumped at the sound of the bell, but forced your mouth into an apologetic smile when he raised an eyebrow.

“You work alone here? Even with what’s happened?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Not enough customers at night to justify more than one of us.”

He hummed—a sound between agreement and ‘guess it can’t be helped—and set off on what you assumed would be his usual round through the shop. You started at nothing as you smoothed down your hair, the motion helping you to calm your nerves somewhat. You followed the stranger, just to give yourself something to do.

“You don’t smell like charcoal today.”

He stopped rummaging through the store to give you a questioning look.

“Uh! I mean!” You fumbled for words for a moment before realising there really was no non-weird way to explain what you just said. “It’s just, usually when you come in at night, you smell a little like burned charcoal. Which is why I thought of barbecue the first time we met.”

He blinked once, twice, and let out a heartfelt laugh at your confused look. “I thought you were joking then. Figured this place would be filled with Glaives, being so close to one of our patrol routes.”

Oh. _Oh._ “You wield magic.” Not a question, but a statement. He winked at you. “I’m more of a jack-of-all-trades, to be honest.”

_And a damn handsome one at that._ You fumbled with the ribbon below your uniform collar. “Th-thank you. For protecting us citizens.” It was strange—you didn’t actually know the man, and you probably should have been afraid, or at least a little nervous. But your gut told you that this stranger was honest. He seemed… heroic, in the best sense of the word. You could easily imagine him taking on behemoths and other monsters to protect the citizens of Insomnia.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Nah, thank _you_ for keeping people like me fed.” As if to prove a point, he waved his usual milk and apples in front of you.

As you two made your way to the counter, you gathered all your courage. “Just doing my job. I could provide you with a proper meal though—I mean, cook for you—if you want to, that is…?” Your face was on fire. Your whole body was on fire. Gods, what were you think—

“Yeah, I’d like that,” his voice pierced through the haze of your anxiety. “Maybe when I’m not on late duty though. Wait, let me—“

As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he grabbed a pen and piece of paper from the counter and wrote down a phone number. “Text me tomorrow?”

He looked down at the paper and seemed to contemplate something. You were sure he’d changed his mind, that in the last seconds he’d realised you were just a weird store clerk who’d said creepy things about his smell, but instead, he scribbled something else on the paper. “There you go. Just realised I don’t actually know your name, but this is a start at least.” He winked again. You hadn’t known, but the fluttering feeling in your stomach told you you liked when men did that. Or at least when this particular man did that. You read what he had written down. _Nyx/guy who buys milk at 3am._

A giggle escaped your mouth as you introduced yourself. Nyx paid for his groceries, and reminded you again to text him as he grabbed his milk and apples before leaving the store.

Night shift wasn’t so bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr as papercloudx!
> 
> Requests for writing are open--I usually write little drabbles like these, so if there's a specific something you'd like to see, shoot me a message :)


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